Harvey and Bob Weinstein must have a crystal ball, otherwise how do you explain why they took a punt on a French made film detailing the emergence of ‘talkies’ during the 1920’s, filmed in black and white with no mainstream Hollywood stars, oh, and it’s silent as well. It is hardly a sure fire hit but a hit it has no less become so are the Weinstein’s very lucky, or very savvy. I’d like to think that they knew exactly what they had on their hands because a film of The Artist’s calibre is too good to be a fluke. The reason for this? The Artist shows a beautiful understanding of those core emotions of love and loss. Such a sad film has never seemed so beautiful and tragic and ultimately not very sad at all. That really is the masterstroke here, a film that shows a man reduced to absolutely nothing will have you walking from the auditorium with a smile on your face. Now that really is “wow” cinema.
It is 1927 and George Valentin is a huge star of silent cinema, the darling of the Kinograph Studios. With his marriage in tatters, George finds himself taken with a young extra, Peppy Miller. He gives her some advice and a shot in one of his films. Almost as soon as he does the ‘talkie’ film emerges George Valentine cannot make the transition, he is forgotten, a relic of the silent era. Peppy shoots to stardom and now George must live with being a nobody.
The Artist really is unique, in the sense that it has been released in an era of CGI and special effects overload and instead of being ignored or laughed at it is being heralded with award nominations and rave reviews. The Artist is not a revelation of a film; it will not change your life or even present you with a scenario or characters that you have not seen before. But it is a truly exciting film, as, for the vast majority of people who will pay to see this film, it will present them with a type of film they have never before seen. I for one was genuinely excited sitting, waiting for the lights to go down and any film that can generate excitement really needs to be celebrated and appreciated. What sets it apart from films that we have grown accustomed to is the courage and the love it took for the filmmakers to make a really simple but elegant film that hasn’t any interest in titillation or box office receipts. This film plays as a homage to an almost forgotten and cruelly neglected era, an era of Griffith and Gance and Sennett, an era of true excitement and unrest within the film industry. The Artist embraces this, using the history of film and the cruel fact that many silent film icons found themselves on the scrap heap once the talkie became the dominant player in Hollywood as inspiration.
While giving great credit to the filmmakers, the stars need to be spoken of just as highly. Jean Dujardin, as Valentin, and Berenice Bejo as Peppy are just phenomenal with some of the best screen chemistry that I have ever seen. Dujardin brings a warm strength to Valentin put the power of his talent is that he is able to strip all that away as the film wears on, revealing a very proud but terribly fragile human being. It is this humanity that makes the audience love him, the arching of an eyebrow or that killer smile. Bejo, a most beautiful actress, uses her charm and beauty to inveigle her way into Hollywood and once she has achieved fame we see this wonderful heart of gold. Mention must also be made of James Cromwell. I have always been a Cromwell fan, loving nearly every performance I have seen him in, mainly because of his wonderful voice. In this film we never hear him utter a single word and this film stands out for me as being one of his best screen performances. His devotion to Valentin is so subtly told that it cannot help but melt your heart, especially when Valentin has to let him go.
Director Michel Hazanavicius shows a great understanding of his craft but also of how films were made 80 odd years ago. He frames scenes beautifully, utilising the 4:3 framing rate and using mirrors and props so well, look for the scene of George spilling his whiskey or Peppy dancing with George’s coat, both are really beautiful moments. He also delves into the darker aspects of early cinema, as shown in George’s nightmare about the coming of sound and when George explores Peppy’s home, the use of angles and colours showing a certain influence of the masters of Expressionism. Yet, it must be said that no matter how much attention to detail has been paid, The Artist still looks like a film that was made in the 21st Century. It seems too bright or too clear, the cinema of the 1930’s and 40’s characterised b the contrasts, the dominant darkness in colours and hues. Unfortunately this is not addressed in The Artist but it is also a feature that will not bother the vast majority of those who will be sitting in a dark auditorium.
The beauty of this film is its treatment of simple and universal themes such as love, regret, loss and redemption. You have to see this film to truly appreciate it, to see the magic as the performers really do make the film come alive. Once the first few minutes are over the viewer slides into the silent mode of film and you really don’t miss sound or dialogue. The music must be mentioned here, the wonderful score falls and rises beautifully with the film, it flows in perfect symmetry with the images. With no incidental sound or dialogue to distract the viewer, it only highlights the score and allows you to appreciate it so much more, you have no distractions to take you out of the story.
I know that this film will not spark a revival in silent cinema and, though I am a fan of silent cinema, I am quite thankful for that as we can look on The Artist as a fragment of something wonderful and beautiful. This will allow the viewer to appreciate the film as unique, unique in this era.
9/10